


Glamping

by officialsarahjay



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-19 18:29:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19138282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/officialsarahjay/pseuds/officialsarahjay
Summary: A short little bit of crack I wrote a few years ago. Uploaded for posterity. Enjoy the silliness.





	Glamping

In the spring and summer, survival training was like camping. The weather was pleasant, there was typically an abundance of fish and fowl and plants to scavenge, and when the sun went down soldiers typically built campfires and bonded over their shared experiences.

 

It was so idealistic that it bordered on saccharine.

 

As for fall.

 

Fall was an entirely different story.

 

The morning began crisp and clear. By noon, Mike and his squad were trudging through mud ankle-deep, ponchos pulled tight over heads in a vain attempt to shield themselves from the cold, driving rain.

 

“Nothing’ll warm you up faster than grain alcohol!” Gelgar had said cheerfully as he slipped on orange and red leaves. “You know...if...I had some?”

 

“You’re singlehandedly destroying what little morale we have,” Mike said.

 

Come evening, the rain had yet to let up and temperatures were beginning to plummet. Under the cover of dying trees, Mike ordered his squad to set up camp for the night.

 

“Just get into your tents, change into something warm, and we’ll regroup in the morning,” he said.

 

“Squad Leader, all of my clothes are soaked,” Henning, a quiet brunette who typically had more sense than this, said sheepishly as he began fishing through his pack.

 

Mike sighed.

 

Later that night, once all the tents were pitched and rations had been divvied out, Mike had taken shelter in his tent. Staring up at the canvas ceiling, he listened to the rain pounding heavily as he wiggled his toes in a vain attempt to regain feeling.

 

He was cold. He was tired. He was hungry.

 

He was bored.

 

Over the constant drumming of the rain, he heard the flaps of his tent shake open.

 

He sat up on his elbows to get a better look.

 

“I hope no one saw me,” a small voice whispered. Mike relaxed.

 

“Nanaba, you should go back to your tent.”

 

“Is that a direct order?”

 

“Eh,” he murmured.

 

“It’s cold, and I wanted to see you,” she said quietly, as she crawled into the warmth of his tent. She laid down next to him, draping an arm over his waist. “Just for a minute?”

 

“Only a minute,” he whispered in response. He brushed her hair from her face. “You’re freezing.”

 

“I’ll be fine,” she said with a small smile.

 

Quite suddenly, the flaps to the tent blew apart and in tumbled another body, this one wet and smelling faintly of cheap whiskey.

 

“I heard there was a slumber party and I brought the libations!” Gelgar exclaimed, shaking a tin flask. He tossed the flask, watching it land near Nanaba’s head before taking a seat next to the pair. “Wow, it’s cramped in here! Terrible for a slumber party. Who brought the popcorn?”

 

“Fuck, Gelgar! Get out!” Mike exclaimed, jerking upright and knocking Nanaba in the jaw.

 

“Aw, jeeze...” Nanaba groaned.

 

“Shit, I am SO sorry…!”

 

“Well, if there isn’t going to be a slumber party then why is Nanaba in your tent, Squad Leader?” Gelgar interrupted, looking hurt.

 

“Can you please keep your voice down?” Nanaba asked.

 

“Slumber party?” Another head peeked through the flaps. Mike sighed loudly.

 

“What do you need, Lynne?” he asked.

 

“I heard slumber party, I wanted to investigate.” She looked around. “You could barely fit one person in here, much less three...” She crawled into the tent, taking a seat next to Gelgar. Gelgar smiled.

 

“Care for a drink?”

 

“Oh...no,” she said, her voice flat.

 

“Everyone, please leave – ”

 

The tent opened a fourth time, bringing a rush of cold air and a fourth soldier.

 

“I heard Lynne’s voice and she wasn’t in her tent, is she – oh, hi Lynne!”

 

“Henning, we’re having a slumber party!”

 

“Wait,” Mike began, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What purpose did you have in Lynne’s tent, Henning?”

 

Henning just stared.

 

“That’s it. That’s fucking it, everyone get the fuck back where you belong! Henning, stay the fuck out of Lynne’s tent.”

 

Gelgar snickered and shot a knowing stare at Nanaba.

 

“What are you waiting for? That’s a direct order!”

 

At that moment, there was a surge of too many bodies trying to make their way out of a too-small tent. There was an audible snap; a second later the canvas tent collapsed over the fivesome sitting huddled together.

 

“I am so sorry,” Nanaba said in a quiet voice.

 

“I hate survival training,” Mike muttered.


End file.
